


Practical Magic

by olivebranchesandredwine



Series: I wanna hold your hand [9]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, Episode: s05e11 Meet the Parents, Gen, Holding Hands, Introspection, Light Angst, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/pseuds/olivebranchesandredwine
Summary: Twyla comforts David during Meet the Parents.
Relationships: David Rose & Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: I wanna hold your hand [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1447450
Comments: 24
Kudos: 127





	Practical Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write Twyla and David; this is what happened. Takes place during Meet the Parents.

“It’s okay not to, you know,” Twyla offers, quietly, “not to, I mean.” She’s smiling at David, eyes bright and sparkling, but there’s a softness to her voice, a _knowing_-ness to it that catches him off guard. “It’s okay for you _not _to be okay with it, that is. With him keeping it from you. It’s a big deal.”

He’s never really thought much of Twyla, to be honest. She’s background noise, at best, seen and immediately forgotten as soon as she’s walked away. But now, she’s standing there before him, those slate blue eyes boring deep inside him, into the anxious part of his psyche that he’s been working so hard to hide today, and she’s seeing through all his walls. Even Patrick, love of his life, good and kind Patrick, hasn’t breeched that boundary today, caught up as he’s been with his own emotional turmoil. David’s thankful for that, though; today isn’t about him. It’s about Patrick and what he needs. David may not be a nice person, will probably _never _be mistaken for a nice person, but he will walk through the fires of hell itself for Patrick. 

David blinks, gives his head what he hopes passes for a careless shake. “I…uh, I don’t think I know what you mean.” He doesn’t look directly at her as he speaks; no, that would be too much. Stevie mentioned Twyla’s family being witches once; maybe that’s what it is now. What makes him so uncomfortable as she speaks to him. She talks like she can see the fear he hides from everyone, and he’s spent the better part of three decades crafting a facade that keeps anyone from seeing that part of himself. What else could it be? How else could this seemingly dim-witted, ray of sunshine diner waitress in fucking _Schitt’s Creek_ be so insightful?

But regardless of what she seems to see inside him, she’s wrong, isn’t she? It’s _not_ okay that he’s not okay with it. Because this is Patrick. And Patrick is good and nice and kind and take-charge and so brave and strong. So if Patrick didn’t tell him, didn’t feel comfortable telling him for nearly two years, the problem _had _to be him.

“David?” Twyla’s voice is still small and lilting, but it’s become more insistent, like she’s been calling his name for a while now. David shakes his head again, trying to clear out the fogginess, and he realizes that she’s reached across the counter and is resting a delicate hand on top of his, is gently squeezing his hand with her bird-like fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he grimaces, “I got a little lost in my head there.” And even though he doesn’t like casual touch, _at all_, he doesn’t move pull away. No, not only does he keep his hand resting on the counter, he flips his palm so that he can squeeze her hand back. Because, he realizes with surprise in an already too-surprised day, he really needs it. Twyla’s “it’s okay” has lifted a weight he didn’t even realize was pressing down on his shoulders.

“You’re going to be alright, David,” Twyla leans in as she speaks, giving him a conspiratorial grin. “The two of you are destined for such beautiful things. You just need to make sure that you talk to each other about it.” She gives his ring-clad hand another gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Twyla,” he whispers, feeling more confident than he has all day.

“Now go enjoy the party.” 


End file.
